


Her Hand

by lilsherlockian1975



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, I may have a crush on my OC, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform, Working on Pat's happy ending, it hurts but there's happiness too, mollock, now with smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly's boyfriend asks Sherlock a very difficult question, this leads to a series of events. There is angst... then happiness. (No longer a one shot - note the rating change ; )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likingthistoomuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likingthistoomuch/gifts).



> I have no idea where this hot mess of emotions came from, but I'm gifting it to my dear friend likingthistoomuch because of her amazing talent for angst. I'm sure it won't compare, but I tried. Love you Gee. The wonderful MizJoely beta'd this, thank you Miz. There be angst… but I promise happiness in the end ; )
> 
> I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

He had no idea why he'd agreed to this meeting. And even less of an idea as to why he'd agreed to meet here. Normally when he met with someone he did it in his flat- his comfort zone, not some… He stopped outside the café and looked up at the sign then opened the door with an annoyed sigh.

It took Sherlock less than fifteen seconds to locate his companion. He was at a table near the back. He looked nervous… _good_. Patrick Willis, a thirty-nine year old head hunter and Molly's _boyfriend_. Never married, no children, no pets and no obvious personality flaws. Sherlock hadn't run a background check as of yet, but he wasn't sure if that was altogether necessary. These things rarely lasted past the six month mark.

"Mr. Willis," Sherlock said startling the man, which was his intention.

"Oh, hello Mr. Holmes," he responded, standing up and offering Sherlock his hand.

The detective shook it then sat down. "Call me Sherlock."

"Then you must call me Pat."

"You wanted to see me about something, Patrick," he said looking down at his phone.

The man's little huff of annoyance was far too satisfying. Sherlock couldn't help but deliberately annoy people, especially if he wasn't very fond of them. Just then the waitress showed up and asked for his order. "Black coffee, two sugars, please," he said without looking up. After she was gone Sherlock focused his attention back on Molly's boyfriend, hoping to get this meeting over with.

"I, ah, well… Molly and I've been together for a while now. And I would like to make plans for our future," Patrick explained.

 _Good luck with that_ , Sherlock thought.

"Her father's dead and she has no living male relatives. All in all, you're her closest friend. She calls Meena her best friend, but who are we kidding? She adores you."

_Yep._

"I suppose what I'm saying is, I want to ask Molly to marry me and I'd like to know that I have your blessing," he finished with an awkward smile.

 _Bloody hell!_ Sherlock thought as he stared at the man across the table. At some point his coffee had shown up.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but it must have been more than deemed socially acceptable, because Pat finally said, "Um, Sherlock? Have I shocked you?"

He shook his head and suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be emotionless. "No, not at all. Of course you'll want to… Isn't this a little soon?"

"I don't think so, I've know since our second date that she was the one. We love each other and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. So, do I have your blessing?" He looked down at his coffee, then back up. "It's rather important, actually."

"Why? I'm her friend, not her father or brother," Sherlock pointed out, not really wanting to have to go through with this conversation.

"Well, I suppose I need to know what you intend to do about your feelings," Pat answered.

"My what?"

Patrick looked around the café then back to Sherlock. "Look, may I be frank?"

Sherlock nodded, even though he wasn't really interested in hearing Pat's frank assessment of his feelings.

"I know that you're in love with her. How do I know that? Because it's my job. A man should be aware of all the other men that are in love with his lady. And I know you two have a history. Even if I don't know the whole story, I know enough of it to know that I can't expect to come in and wipe you out of her memory. Especially when she sees you every bleeding day." He sighed. "I respect her too much to ask her to cut you out of her life. Besides, she'd most likely slap the shit out of me and tell me off if I even suggested that she had to choose. She's a force of nature." He laughed. "But I also know- am afraid actually- that if you ever decided you were good enough for her, I'd suddenly be a fond memory. I'd have my packing orders before you can say _science of deduction_." He laughed awkwardly, then took a drink of coffee and seemed to try to steady himself. "I love her, Sherlock. She deserves happiness and I can give it to her, I know I can. But I have to know that you won't realise that you've made a huge mistake once we've married and try to take it all away."

Sherlock thought about laughing in the man's face and leaving. But suddenly he had much more respect for him than he did when he'd walked into the restaurant. "Well, I have to admit, Patrick I'm not used to being deduced. Molly is one of the few people who've ever managed it successfully." He looked down at his coffee cup and gathered his thoughts. "She does mean a great deal to me. I wouldn't see her hurt, you understand. That's why... " He paused, unsure about how much he was willing share with the stranger in front of him. "I can't give you my blessing, that would be disingenuous. But I can say I will never do anything to impede upon her happiness." The constriction in his chest was making it hard to continue, but he did nevertheless. "You are not incorrect in your assumption as to my feelings. Though I have spent a great deal of time assessing my value in terms of what she deserves and I find myself… wanting. Molly Hooper is the best this world has to offer. I simply don't compare." He leaned across the table. "I leave you with this one last thought: don't hurt her. If you do I won't be held responsible for my actions." Then he got up and left.

* * *

Pat arrived at Molly's flat twenty minutes later. He'd made his decision halfway through Sherlock's speech. His girlfriend greeted him at the door with a hug and a kiss.

"Well, how'd it go?" she asked hopefully.

"Can we sit down?"

"Oh no," she sighed. "What did he say? Something horrible? I told you about Jim. He can't keep throwing that up in my face… you date one master criminal…"

"Molly, sit down, love," he interrupted.

She sat on the sofa and Pat sat on the coffee table across from her. "Listen…"

She instantly started crying.

He took her hands. "No, don't do that. Please don't."

"I'm sorry."

"Damnit. He said not to hurt you and here I am…" A tear rolled down his cheek. "I do love you, Molly."

"Then why?"

"Remember on our third date how you said I was a hopeless romantic and you loved that about me?"

She nodded her head.

"Yeah, well… I am. And as much as I love you, I realised today that no one will ever love you as much as he does. I can't compete with that."

She shook her head. "No-no... he's just my friend. He loves me like a friend."

"Molly, he's the love of your life." He wiped the tears off of her cheeks. "I wish it was me, I do. But it's not. I'm not even trying to be noble here. Just… realistic."

She stood up and paced across the room. "I don't even know why you had to talk to him!"

He followed close behind. "Because I had to know. And so did you."

She turned to face him. "You know what happens now, don't you? You leave and I'm alone. My only comfort is knowing that he _may_ love me, but refuses to be with me. I want to be with you!" She reached for him. "Why isn't that enough?"

He held her tightly as she sobbed into his chest. "I'm so sorry, Molly."

He stayed until she fell asleep, then carried her to bed.

* * *

Sherlock was playing his violin when he heard the doorbell. He tried to ignore it but Mrs. Hudson was next door at Mrs. Turner's and he had no choice but to go answer it. His fingers needed a rest anyway. He was quite surprised to find Patrick Willis standing on his stoop.

"Hello Sherlock," Patrick said.

"What can I do for you?"

"I thought I'd save you some time and take my punishment like a man," he explained.

"I'm sorry?"

"You said if I ever hurt Molly…"

"What have you done?" Sherlock interrupted angrily.

"I can't marry someone who doesn't belong to me, Sherlock. It's not who I am."

"You fool." He pointed down the street. "GO! Fix this!"

"No. She's hurting now, but she'll thank me for it later," Patrick said.

"Thank you for breaking her heart?" Sherlock asked, mockingly.

"I didn't break her heart, you did. I broke _my_ heart tonight, but that's beside the point, isn't it? She's desperately looking for someone to replace you. I'd have happily taken your place if I thought it would work. But it's no use." He paused. "No disrespect, Sherlock, but _you_ are the fool. And denying the fact that you two are made for each other doesn't make it not true. It only makes you both miserable."

Sherlock stood in stunned silence.

"Are you going to punch me?" Patrick asked.

Sherlock shook his head.

"I can't say I don't want to punch _you_ , but I won't. She needs someone right now, by the way. I'm going to have a drink… or several. Do the right thing for God's sake." Then he turned and left.

* * *

Molly woke up with a crying headache and looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was after midnight. That's when she realised someone was in her bedroom. She assumed it was Pat. He'd been there when she'd fallen asleep. "You didn't have to stay, Patty," she said sitting up.

"He didn't," Sherlock answered from her vanity chair.

"What are you doing here?" she said as she turned on the light.

"Mr. Willis paid me a visit. Let me know of the status of your relationship. He thought it would be a good idea if you weren't alone tonight."

"Yeah, he's a good guy," she responded. He was still wearing his Belstaff.

"Yes, he is."

"Well, I'm fine actually. Just need some paracetamol and more sleep, so…"

"It's a bad idea, Molly," he said.

"Paracetamol? I have a headache. It's the best idea I've had all day," she quipped.

He sighed. "Us, Molly. _We_ are a bad idea."

She got up. "Yes, fine, I know… whatever," she said as she walked out of the room. That's when she realised she was only wearing a tee shirt and knickers, but frankly she didn't care. She walked down the hall to the bathroom to find something for her head.

She took her time in the loo, hoping that Sherlock would take the hint and just leave. She'd had enough misery for one day, even if it was after midnight… _Oh, bugger,_ she thought. _Rejected by two men in less than four hours, must be some kind of record._ She found a dressing gown on the back of the bathroom door and put it on.

When she came out, sure enough, Sherlock was in the kitchen making tea. He'd lost his coat and suit jacket. "You don't have to do that. I said I was fine."

He didn't turn around. "I wanted tea."

She shook her head and went into the sitting room. _Not leaving, I suppose_.

Five minutes later Sherlock joined her with two mugs of tea. "We need to talk," he said as he handed one to her, then sat in the armchair next to the sofa.

"Can't this wait? I already been broken up with once today."

He gave her a tight lipped smile. "No, it can't."

" _Sadist_ ," she mumbled over her mug.

"I'm not boyfriend material, Molly. I'm not a good choice. I've tried to prove that for years," he said, looking directly at her.

"I'm aware. And I keep dating other men, trying to find someone… better."

He nodded. "You deserve someone kind and thoughtful. Someone who will take you on proper dates and be around on weekends. A man who wants marriage and children and all the things you want." He paused. "In other words, not me."

Molly sat motionless. Why was this happening… again? Had she been Eva Braun in her former life? "Fine. I understand. Will you leave now?"

"No," he answered.

She closed her eyes and sighed then she heard him say. "I am in love with you, Molly."

As she opened her eyes she said, "But…?"

"I just am."

A long silence stretched out as Molly waited for the other shoe to drop. Finally she asked, "What now?"

"Well, it's in your hands, I suppose. You can continue to search for someone… better, or settle for me. I come complete with baggage and idiosyncrasies and a whole list of inadequacies. I have no idea what I'm doing, of course, and you'll most likely tire of me before six months is out. But if you want me, I'm yours. Patrick was right, I've been a fool. A fool to deny this for so long. I've hurt you for fear of hurting you. A situation of not seeing the forest for the trees, I think."

"Did you just admit to being wrong?" she asked with a small smile.

He looked around the room and seemed to be suppressing a grin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She stood up and held out her hand to the detective. "I want to go back to bed and I don't want to be alone."

He looked shocked.

"For sleeping, Sherlock. I want to go to sleep. It's been a trying day."

He nodded and took her hand.

"Tomorrow we start this… thing. But right now I need more sleep," she said as she led him to her bedroom. "Six months you say?"

"At the most," he answered.

"Hmmm, we'll see about that."


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story was supposed to be a one shot but I had many requests for a follow-up. What I've done is make it a multi chapter story. Everyone wants Pat to have a happy ever after. Bear with me here… I am working on chapter three. Please note the rating change. There be sexy times ahead. Big thanks to MizJoely for betaing this.
> 
> I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

Molly and Sherlock were sitting at a table in the canteen, eating. Well, Molly was eating or rather picking at her food, while Sherlock played with his mobile.

"You're not working right now," she commented, slightly annoyed that she was once again the only person with food in front of her.

"Not at the moment," he answered, his eyes still glued to his phone.

"Why aren't you eating?" she asked.

He look up, then around the room. "Because we're… _here_. Why you risk it is beyond me," he said then went back to his phone.

"I _risk_ it because if I don't my blood sugar will drop and I'll be cranky the rest of the day."

He didn't look up. "I don't think your patients will complain, Molly." The smirk on his face told her he was joking.

 _Okay, that was funny._ She smiled then looked back down at her. _God, what is this?_ She pushed it away and popped a crisp in her mouth then decided to make the most of her lunch with her boyfriend. "So, have you heard who Pat's dating?"

He slipped his phone in his breast pocket and picked up his coffee. "Pat?"

"Pat! My ex boyfriend, Pat," she said in an exasperated tone. He knew exactly who she was talking about, the git.

"Oh, Patrick. No, mostly because I don't engage in idle gossip. You're confusing me with my blogger." He reached over and stole one of her crisps.

Molly raised an eyebrow.

"They're from a bag, very unlikely to be contaminated." He took another.

"Anyway, back to what I was saying… He's dating Meena."

He gave her one of his long appraising looks then asked, "And how do we feel about that?"

It was so strange to hear Sherlock ask a question like that; phrasing it like a psychiatrist. She knew he wasn't being flippant. She had gotten better at reading his moods and the meaning behind his words. This time he actually wanted to know how she felt about Pat dating her best friend. "I'm fine with it. He deserves to be happy, just like us." And she left it at that.

Sherlock nodded his head. "All done?"

"I think I've put forth a valiant effort," she said, looking at her 'food'.

He stood up and put on his coat. "Lestrade's been texting. I'll try call you later, let you know what's going on." He bent down, kissing her quickly on the lips.

"Okay," she said when the kiss ended. "Be careful."

He smiled at her before walking out of the canteen.

* * *

Well _that_ had been a lie. Sherlock was well aware that Pat was seeing Meena. He had actually spoke with the man several times since that day on his doorstep. It might be considered selfish and perhaps a bit cruel, but a month into dating (though he wasn't fond of the term) Molly, he had contacted Patrick and asked for some advice. As the detective rode to New Scotland Yard he thought about their conversation that day in that same café, at the same table. Only this time it was Mr. Willis with the shocked expression on his face.

" _You want what?" he asked, agast._

_Sherlock drew himself up and swallowed what little pride he had left. "I need..."_

" _I can't believe you're asking me to help you date the woman I love. I mean… I gave in! I threw in the towel! You win, Sherlock. Make it work!" he said with a dramatic wave of his hands._

" _I realise that this is… unorthodox…"_

" _Unorthodox?" Pat said with a bitter laugh. "Look, I did the right thing, hard as it was, I did it. Now it's up to you!" He got up and started to leave._

" _She's not happy," Sherlock said, a bit desperately, much to his dismay._

_Pat stopped moving, his shoulders slumped and he stood still for a few seconds. Without turning around he asked, "Why?"_

" _Because I'm a detective, not a boyfriend," Sherlock admitted. "I'm doing it all wrong."_

_A full minute passed, then he sat back down. "What'd you mean?"_

" _I'm not cut out for this," he explained. "She's used to_ you _. To thoughtfulness and dates and romance. What the hell_ is _romance, anyway?"_

_Pat sighed. "Molly's not a complicated girl, Sherlock. She just wants to be loved. She doesn't need grand gestures or expensive dinners. For God's sake she fell in love with you… and frankly you're an ass. Now that you've told you her that you love her… You did actually tell her, didn't you?"_

_Sherlock nodded._

" _Well, this is the easy part-the fun part. You should just be enjoying each other."_

" _I'm screwing it up," Sherlock admitted._

" _You're just panicking," Pat said._

" _Of course I am! I told her this would end before six months and…"_

" _You what?" Pat interrupted. "You are a moron. Really, a world class idiot!"_

_Sherlock couldn't even find a reason to disagree with the man._

" _Just spend time with her. She loves you!" He paused, shaking his head. "Do you know what I would give to be in your place right now?"_

" _How do I show her that I love her?" Sherlock blurted out, finally getting to the question he'd been trying to ask the whole time._

_There was a long pause while Pat looked at him with a pained expression on his face then he said, "It takes work, Sherlock, and sacrifice. To love someone you have to give them a part of you. I'm not saying you give up your life, but you have to be willing to share it, to give them your time… your energy… at the very least a little part of your world. Perhaps a very large part of it. Also, you can't keep treating Molly like nothing's changed. I'm just guessing here, but remember, she's not just your friend anymore- not just your lab assistant. She's your girlfriend, your…" He looked away. "...lover."_

" _Well, actually we haven't…"_

" _All right," he interrupted. "Fine, that'll happen... eventually. Don't rush it." Then he stood up. "Don't hurt her. I mean it, Sherlock. I resisted punching you once. I can't say I'll be able to do that again."_

Three months (and four meetings with Pat) later his relationship with Molly was better, but not where the detective wanted it to be. He needed to do something. Pat was right, Molly Hooper wasn't a complicated woman but she deserved more than he was currently giving. She deserved the best. Also, they still hadn'thad sex. Sherlock had been celibate for many years, but suddenly it was all he could think about. He wasn't going to pressure her into it, no. That didn't mean, however, that he wasn't imagining a hundred different ways, places, positions in which he could have Molly on a daily basis.

The cab stopped in front of NSY and he banished all thoughts of Molly and lovemaking as he got out and headed inside.

* * *

Three days later Molly was sitting at her desk with an aching back and a mound of paperwork when there was a knock on her door. She looked up to see Meena's smiling face.

"Hey, come on in," she said, standing up.

Her friend greeted her with a warm hug. "It's good to see you, Molls. It's been too long," she said then she sat down. "Should we just get the uncomfortable bit out of the way?"

Molly smiled and nodded. "It's fine, really. I love you both and I want nothing more than to see you happy."

Meena rolled her eyes. "That was such a _Molly_ thing to say. It's not weird, then?"

"Meena," She paused, thinking for a moment. Yes, it was a bit odd. But Pat had been so amazing the way he'd practically forced her and Sherlock together, how could she deny him… anything. "No, it's not weird. It's lovely. How's it going?"

"He's amazing, Molly! Still on the mend, of course, so we're taking things slow. But he's just… wonderful."

The pathologist smiled at her friend's happiness. "That's good, I'm glad."

"Was it terribly cowardly of me to tell you in a text?" her best friend asked.

Molly laughed. "I'm dating Sherlock Holmes, Meena. I'm quite used to text messages."

Meena got a strange look on her face, then asked, "How are things with Sherlock, _really_?"

Oh, was that pity? Pity because she now had this great guy and Molly was stuck with an _emotionally stunted man child_ , as Meena had called on many occasions. Molly was well aware of her friend's opinion of Sherlock. "It's good, Meena. He's trying. It's all really new to him, but we too are taking thing slow. I'm happy, if that's what you're asking. I love him, but you already knew that."

Meena nodded.

"It's not like it was with Pat or Tom, for that matter. But I wouldn't want it to be. I want Sherlock to be Sherlock."

"Do you see him much? Outside of here, I mean?" she asked, gesturing around the room.

Molly didn't miss the tone in her question. Meena had never been supportive of her friendship with Sherlock, so the fact that they were now dating had been a bit of a _no fly zone_. She felt like her friend was waiting for it to fail. Meena wasn't a bad person, but when she believed she was right about something… "Sure, yeah. We hang out at Baker Street… a lot. He takes me to Angelo's, it's his favorite restaurant. And we have dinners with John and Mary and little Sammy, of course. Sometime they cook, sometimes I do." She _was_ happy, why was this conversation making her so uncomfortable?

"Oh, how is she? The baby?"

"She's turning one next week," Molly answered. "Sherlock and I are going to pick out a present for her tomorrow."

"Molly, can I be honest with you?" her friend asked.

 _Hell no,_ she thought. "Haven't you always?"

She gave her a sad smile and said, "You don't seem happy. Something's off."

No, things weren't perfect with Sherlock, but she'd never expected them to be. Meena was the one making her uncomfortable. And of course the added bonus that her best friend now shagging her ex boyfriend. Then of course the _other_ elephant in the room. Molly sighed. "You and I have barely seen each other in the last two years. I know that I'm just as much to blame for that as you."

Meena huffed and shook her head.

"Okay, fine. _I'm_ more to blame because I had to lie to you- to everyone. But I've apologise! You're the one who couldn't forgive me for keeping his secret. We need to move past it, Meena. I actually thought we had- or were pretending to at least, until…this." She took a deep breath. "I'm happy with Sherlock. I'd like your support. I know you don't like him…"

"You committed felonies for him, Molly! As your friend, how am I supposed to support this relationship?"

"I don't know. Maybe the same way I'm being supportive about you dating my ex!" Molly replied without missing a beat.

Meena stared at her for a moment then said, "Do you know that he's been talking to Pat?"

"What?"

"Yes, how cruel is that? He asks him for advice- tips on dating _you!_ And by the sound of it he's not doing a very good job following through," she said.

Molly stood up, she was beyond pissed off. "That sounds very much like a secret that you _weren't_ supposed to share, Meena. _Now_ do you understand why I didn't tell you that Sherlock was alive?"

"He's going to hurt you," Meena said, getting up and walking to the door.

"Well, that's not really your problem, now is it?" Molly said.

Meena left without another word.

* * *

Sherlock hadn't seen Molly outside Barts in days. Lestrade's case had turned out to be an interesting eight and he'd been quite busy. He woke up that morning with a feeling of determination. Rather than sending a text, he phoned her making plans to shop for a gift for Samantha's birthday the following day. He had actually already bought his goddaughter a gift a month before: her own magnifying glass engraved with her name and birthday. But he thought that buying a present together, as a couple, would make Molly happy and be somewhat symbolic. He could still give Sammy his gift as well, he found that spoiling his goddaughter to be an acceptable and enjoyable practice. He'd also decided to be at Molly's flat waiting for her when she got home from work that evening.

So here he was, making dinner for his girlfriend (God help him). Even though it was just a light salad and soup that Mrs. Hudson had made, all he had to do was heat up. He was slightly nervous nevertheless. He wanted to do something spontaneous and romantic for her. Tonight was all about Molly. He had bought massage oils because, according to his research, a back rub was a subtle way to initiate intimacy. Not to mention Molly's job was physically taxing, she could use a good massage, even if it didn't lead where he hoped it would.

He was just getting out a bowl to start mixing the salad when the door to the flat open and Molly came storming in. She was almost thirty minutes early. She must have seen his coat and shoes (which he'd meant to move before she arrived) because she called out to him.

"Kitchen," he answered.

As she walked into the room he watched her face morph from anger to awe. "What are you doing?"

He was wearing one of her aprons tied around his waist and holding her wooden salad bowl. It must have been a sight. "I _was_ making you dinner. You spoiled it." He laughed awkwardly.

"You're cooking for me?" she asked, her voice cracking just a bit.

"Well, cooking's a bit of a stretch. Actually…" he started but his words died when he saw the look in Molly's eyes.

She then glanced over at the stove and he realised she was checking to see if it was on. "I haven't really started yet," he said.

"Good. Put the bowl down," she said as she closed the distance between them.

It dropped with a clatter on the table top.

"You've had a bad day. A fight. Not with a co-worker…"

"Don't deduce me right now, Sherlock," she said when she was right in front of him. "I don't want to talk about my day."

He nodded and suddenly Molly's hands were on him.

"God, you're fit," she whispered into his chest as she played with a button on his shirt. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves in preparation for his attempt as being domestic. She looked up into his eyes and said, "And tall, so very tall." Her tone was almost accusatory.

"Sorry?" He didn't know what he was apologising for, but he felt like he was in a trance. It was a bit confusing.

"Then bend your bloody head down and kiss me," she demanded as her hands moved up his shoulders, then further up to find the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

He must not have moved fast enough because she pulled him down and crashed her lips into his. Even though they had yet to have sex, they _had_ made out before. This, however, was the first time in four months that Molly had really taken the lead.

She held him tightly as she nipped at his lips, he opened for her and allowed her tongue to invade his mouth. It was entirely different than the kisses they'd shared in the past. He didn't know where this was leading, though he hopped…

He quickly realised what she meant about his height. They usually only exchanged quick 'hello' or 'goodbye' kisses while standing. So in order to remedy the problem he picked Molly up and turned, placing her on the countertop. Molly hummed against his lips as she ended the kiss. When she pulled back he looked into her eyes to find them completely dilated.

"What…" he started to ask… something. What were they doing? What had happened today? He wasn't quite sure.

"You look sexy in my apron," she interrupted, then she was unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his jaw. "Want you so much." Her little teeth pinched his skin in the most satisfying way as she moved from his jaw to his neck then his ear. "Hmmm, you taste good," she whispered in the sexiest voice he'd ever heard.

His shirt was still tucked into his trousers (and caught under the apron) but Molly didn't seem to mind, she just continued her exploration of his neck and chest. He didn't even realise that he had worked his hands up under her many layers of clothing and had found the flesh just above her simple work trousers until she whispered, "I love your hands." Against his throat.

She leaned back and jerked her jumper off over her head with surprising speed. As she started for the buttons on her floral blouse Sherlock's instinct finally kicked in. "Allow me," he said, his hands covering hers.

Molly smiled as she moved her hands, giving him silent permission to do what he wanted. He was ashamed at the slight tremor in his hands as he started unbuttoning her top, but Molly didn't seem to notice. She was too busy removing the apron and pulling his shirt free from his trousers. Once he had Molly's blouse undone he brushed it off of her shoulder and down her arms. There she was. His Molly on display, all pale skin and soft contours. She was wearing a purple lace bra and his mind immediately started working out what her knickers might look like.

He looked up to she her smiling shyly at him, biting her lower lip. He lunged forward kissing her passionately, his hands on her waist gripped tightly and pulled her forward until their centres met. The feeling of her sex grinding against his hard cock caused his mind to blank out for a moment, then he was right back. His hands found the clasp on her bra and managed to unfasten it rather quickly, then it was gone. He kissed down her neck and across her clavicle barely resisting the urge to mark her like an animal. He wanted to, by God he wanted to. She was his and the world should know… _on second thought_. Then he was back on her throat and he found himself sucking and biting. Molly's hands held him close, her nails in his scalp causing all kinds of lovely sensations. _That_ they had discovered months before, his love of a good head scratch. She was taking it to a whole new level though.

He jerked back and inspected his work; an angry red mark was forming at the base of her neck. Molly was breathing heavily and licking her lips. He wanted to say something, something meaningful, seductive, but his mind was overrun with so many sensations and scenarios… he couldn't even speak. He felt himself getting overwhelmed. He knew he was going to say or do something to spoil this perfect moment. Resting his head on her shoulder, he tried to get control of himself.

"Hey," Molly said softly as she smoothed her hands down his back. "I'm sorry. That was too much. I sort of attacked you. We should probably slow down, yeah?"

This was exactly what he was afraid of. "No!" he said, raising his head. "I want this- I want you." He pulled her close and held her against him enjoying the feeling of their bare flesh touching. He kissed her shoulder and stroked her back. "Go to your room, undress and wait for me. Okay?"

Molly pulled away from him and nodded. He helped her down from the counter and said, "I will only be a couple of minutes… promise." Then he kissed her cheek.

Once she was gone he got a glass of water and took a long drink. He wasn't letting this moment pass them by. He just needed to get ahold of himself and go do what he'd wanted to do for years: make love to Molly Hooper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know… left us hanging there and still not much Pat happening yet. But there is more to come. Thanks so much for reading. Please let me know what you think. ~Lil~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe that this will be the final installment in this little story. It was supposed to be a one shot but you all enjoyed Pat so much (and I did too) I ended up going for it and I'm actually glad I did. It gets ALL KINDS of NSFW here my friends, be warned. Huge thanks to MizJoely for betaing this for me, she's wonderful. The mistakes are all mine! This is, of course, a gift for likingthistoomuch. I didn't mean for it to get so sexy, Gee. Hope you like it! Thanks to everyone who is following this one. You all rock my socks!
> 
> I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

A few minutes later Sherlock found himself walking into Molly's bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, but she wasn't naked. No, she was wearing a silk robe; silver with little blue and green birds. She started to stand but Sherlock motioned to for her to stay. He shrugged out of his shirt, leaving it where it fell. then toed out of his socks as he worked on the clasps and zip of his trousers. Molly was looking at him like she was about to pounce. She squirmed and bit her lip as she watched him undress. He left his pants on and walked to her.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said as he ran his thumb across her jawline. Her whole body shivered and she started to speak but he stopped her with a finger against her lips. "I'm not saying that four months is an unreasonable amount of time to wait, Molly. You had just ended a relationship, it's perfectly understandable that we should take our time. What I mean is, I should have told you how I felt years ago." He knelt down on the floor in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her face. "You've been so patient and," he kissed her gently, slowly, "so good to me. I know I haven't said it enough- haven't showed it in the right ways, but I do love you." He paused, studying her for a moment before continuing. "I just needed to say that before we do this."

The smile on her kiss-swollen lips was something he was sure he'd never forget. "I know you do. I've never doubted it since you told me. And I love you too, Sherlock."

He smirked as he reached for the tie on her robe. "Now, as lovely as this is, I believe I requested that you to be _completely_ without clothes." He pushed the garment off her shoulders and suddenly found a beautifully naked Molly Hooper in front of him. " _Oh…_ " The word escaped his mouth quite without his permission, but the sight was far too perfect and he felt a bit dumbstruck.

Afraid of getting overwhelmed again, he took a deep breath and refocused on the task ahead (although task seemed like the wrong word). During his little 'pep-talk' in the kitchen he'd decided to approach this one step at a time, though not clinically, as to not get lost once again.

Looking up, he tried to give Molly a reassuring smile, then said, "I want to make you feel good." He moved his hands to her hips.

"I can't see that being problem, Sherlock," she replied with a grin.

"I _have_ done this before," he blurted out, for no real reason except perhaps nerves.

"I already figured that out."

"Most people assume…"

"Am I most people?" she asked, interrupting him. Her hands were on his arms, stroking him- soothing him.

He suddenly felt a sense of calm wash over him and he said, "No, you most certainly are _not_." He moved his hands up to her breasts, cupping them gently and rolling her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. "What do you like, Molly?"

She'd reacted immediately, closing her eyes and biting her lip. "Ahhh, can't you just deduce it?"

He laughed. "You told me not to, remember?" he said before closing his lips around the dusty pink bud.

Her hands dug into his hair. " _That_. I like that. And forget about the 'no deducing thing' when we're making love… you can deduce the hell out of me while you're between my legs."

"Hmmm." He was relieved to hear her say that; it would make the experience far more enjoyable, and it would also keep his mind focused. He switched sides and tested how much pressure and teeth she liked applied to her nipple. She cried out and pressed his head closer when he bit down and he smiled against her breast. He soothed the abused bud with his tongue then eased back and pulled her back in for a blistering kiss.

Everything felt much easier now; he felt more in control. Sherlock nudged her knees apart and slowly danced his fingers up her thighs. Ending the kiss he nibbled his way down her neck and whispered, "Lie back for me?"

Molly complied, laying on the bed with a sigh. Sherlock took a deep breath, savouring the heady scent of her arousal, then parted her and just… looked. Her squirming body told him she was impatient for him to get started, but he was rather enjoying the show. She was all pink and glistening, wet and just so lovely. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this, Molly?" Her response was a soft moan followed by a breathy plea. He ignored her and continued, "Thought about my first taste of you?" He used his index finger to gather some of her leaking juices then sucked the digit into his mouth. "Mmmm," he hummed.

"God, Sherlock! Please," she whispered.

Unable to continue tormenting them both he lowered his head and licked her from her clit to her core before exploring every nook and cranny of her hidden wonders. Molly instantly closed her thighs around head and buried one hand in his hair, holding him tight as he drove his tongue deep within her channel. He was locked. For a split second he thought he might just suffocate right there between her legs. _What a way to go!_ Then she shifted and bucked at the same time, releasing him, and he moved his attention back to her clit, sucking it into his mouth. After a few seconds she cried out and dug her nails into his head as she ground her cunt into his face.

Sherlock had never felt so much masculine pride as when Molly was riding out her orgasm and calling out his name. He leaned back and watched as she panted, a completely satisfied smile playing on her lips.

A moment later she looked at him and held out her hand. "I'm a bit spent."

He pulled her to a sitting position then stood up. She was now eye level with the tent in his boxers.

" _Sherlock_ ," she said, her eyes glued to his erection. "I want to do something for you," She looked up, licking her lips. "I need a minute anyway after that first one, then I'll be fine." With a shy smile she asked, "Just a taste?"

_Fuck-ing-hell…_ "Of course," he said as he tried to steady himself. _What kind of fool says no to that?_ he wondered.

Molly pulled down his pants and he stepped out, kicking them to the side. Her small hand immediately found his cock and started pumping. He watched as she licked the pearl of precum off the tip then gave it a little kiss, her eyes never leaving his. But as her lips wrapped around the head of his cock he had to close his eyes; the visual was almost too much. Her mouth was hot and wet as she sucked and licked him to the brink. When he felt her hand on his balls, first cupping then pulling gently, he knew he was done for.

" _Molly... no!_ " he cried out and as gently as he could, tugged on her hair. "I'm… you can't… I…"

She pulled her lips away and gripped the base of his penis firmly. "I'm so ready for you!" she said.

"Thank fuck for that," Sherlock replied, causing Molly to giggle as she released him then laid back with her head on the pillows.

She was still laughing as he got into bed next to her. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"I've never heard you use _that word_ before… it was unexpected."

He leaned down, pulling her body closer to his, at the same time and whispered, "You mean _fuck_?" in his deepest voice.

This time she didn't laugh so much as gasp. "Yes… ah, that word."

"Hmm, well, isn't this interesting? I was going to make love to you, but perhaps I should fuck you instead." When he finished talking he moved on top of her and ground his cock into her belly, taking her hands and pinning them to either sides of her head. "Which would you prefer?"

She whimpered. "Both. I want both."

The desperation on her face and in her words made him very glad that Molly had already tested them both for STIs months before. They had also decided to rely on her oral birth control when the time came. And the time had most definitely come.

"Then I shall fucking make love to you, Molly Hooper." He reached down, finding her just as wet and ready as he'd left her, then took himself in hand. He positioned himself and slowly entered her. She felt absolutely amazing… perfect, just as he'd imagined. No, she felt better. He had to steady himself at the rush of sensations; her nails digging into his shoulders helped immensely.

"God… Sh-Sherlock… you feel… fuck! I love you!"

He kissed her neck, her cheek, her mouth, then looked into her eyes and started moving. The feeling of her soft, wet, heat enveloping him each time he reentered her was nearly beyond description. She was so tight and so hot.

Praising himself for the wank session before leaving Baker Street that afternoon, he set to work, determined that Molly would find her end first. Of course, selfishly, he wanted to feel her coming around his cock.

He tilted her hips at a different angle so that his pelvis was grinding against her clit and continued a steady rhythm. After a few minutes he realised it wasn't enough. "What do you need, Molly?"

"Ahhh, I don't know. Sometimes it just takes a while," she explained, looking slightly embarrassed.

He moved his lips to her ear and said, "You've always enjoyed my voice, will that help?"

Molly moaned and he felt the shiver run through her body.

He slowed down his thrusts. "I thought about you this afternoon… in the shower." He kissed her neck. "I couldn't help myself, I was thinking about this moment… about fucking you. About how good you'd feel. Turns out my imagination isn't as good as I thought it was. You're so wet and tight…" He picked up his speed. "...like you were made for me. And you taste amazing. I could eat you all day, Molly. Would you like that? Would you like to say in bed and let me feast on you for hours?" Now he was driving into her as hard as he could. "Come on Molly, come for me. Let me feel that tight little pussy clamp down on my cock."

"Unnnhhhhhh!"

As Molly's orgasm shook her entire body, her internal muscles locked onto Sherlock's penis like a vice, milking him. He came with a shout, burying his face in her neck.

"Holy shit, Sherlock," Molly said in a breathy voice. "I had no idea you could be so filthy."

He rolled to the side and took a deep breath. "I can be just about anything when properly motivated."

Molly laughed just as someone banged loudly on her front door. "What the hell? We weren't _that_ loud, were we?" She rolled out of bed and found a dressing gown. Sherlock followed, grabbing his pants and shirt.

Once in the front room she started to open the door, but he stopped her. "You didn't check the peephole," he admonished. He looked through it then turned back to her. "It's Pat."

When he opened it Molly's ex came rushing into the flat, not waiting for an invitation. "Neither of you were answering your phones!" he said in a panicked voice. Then he took in their appearance. "Oh, of course. Sorry."

Molly moved forward and put a hand on his arm. "It's okay. What's wrong?"

"Meena and I had a fight and she ran off. I can't find her. I'd hoped she was here, apologising," he said sheepishly.

Molly folded her arms across her chest. "I take it the fight was about me?"

Pat nodded his head.

She sighed.

"Look I'm sorry that I… interrupted you two…" he started.

Sherlock waved him off. "How long has she been gone?" he asked.

"Ah, about two hours."

"She's just clearing her head, Pat. She does that. Two fights in one day, it's not surprising that she needs some space," Molly said.

"I know, I know. But… I need to find her," Pat said, a desperate look in his eyes.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Let me get dressed."

* * *

Twenty minutes later the men were in a cab searching for Pat's girlfriend and Sherlock found himself in the unlikely role of 'relationship mender'. He'd sent his brother a text asking him to locate Miss Sodhir via the GPS on her mobile. It wasn't something he enjoyed doing, asking his brother for a favour, but he wanted to get this over with. It wasn't even mildly intriguing. There was a warm bed and a tasty pathologist waiting for him in a flat several blocks away.

"Pat," Sherlock said getting the man's attention. "Your fight, it was about Molly?"

He sighed. "Yes. That's the only thing we fight about. They haven't really been close since…" he didn't finish, just looked away.

"I came back and Meena found out what Molly did."

"As I understand it, yes," Pat said.

"Hmm. You girlfriend's never been my biggest fan. So no surprise there. But why the sudden open hostility?" he said as he thought over the situation. Finding the woman wasn't enough; he needed to approach the problem with their relationship like a case, solve it and get back to Molly… he wasn't quite finished with her just yet. He delved into his mind trying to find memories of early interactions with Meena, Molly and Pat.

_A party at Molly's flat several months ago, they'd only been dating for a few weeks. Molly looked radiant, Pat looked… like Pat. Meena, where's Meena? He searched until he found a her standing against the wall. She had a glass of wine and she was… staring a hole into the back of Molly's head._ Ahhh, that's something. _But it was all he had from that particular memory._

He kept looking for another 'Meena Moment'. Finally he found one. _Molly and Meena talking outside the canteen when he'd gone in search of his pathologist. He waited for them to finish their conversation. Okay, he was actually eavesdropping to see if he could get any information about Molly's relationship with Patrick._

" _God Meena, he's been so sweet. I think I could fall in love with him," Molly said, making Sherlock wish he'd just been his usual self and cut their conversation short._

" _That's great, Molly. Really, I'm happy for you," her friend responded in a flat voice._

" _Don't be so enthusiastic about it," Molly said with a laugh._

" _Oh, ah, sorry. It's just…"_

" _What?" Molly questioned._

" _Well, you don't really like nice guys, do you? That's why things didn't work out with Tom. I mean, for instance, Sherlock, he's the very definition of not nice. I just can't see you being happy with someone like Pat." She laughed, though it sounded forced. "Oddly he's more my type."_

_Molly joined in with her friends awkward laugh. "Well… ummm..."_

At that point Sherlock had had just about enough of their mindless blathering and walked around the corner, putting a halt to the conversation.

He came out of his mind palace and looked at Pat. "Meena fell in love with you while you were dating Molly. She's afraid we're going to break up and that Molly will turn to you. She's also afraid that you, still having feelings for my girlfriend, will happily dump her and restart a relationship with Molly."

Pat sat stunned for several minutes then said, "Meena's in love with me?"

"Yes."

"In love," Pat repeated.

"That's what I said, yes."

He seemed to take in the information for a minute. "Well then why is she giving Molly a hard time about being with you? Why make the situation worse?"

"Don't judge her too harshly, Pat. She's just an average human," Sherlock said as he read a text message confirming the payment Mycroft requested for his assistance. "Damnit," he said as he sent his replied.

"You say that is if you're not one of us," Pat said.

He smirked at the man. "Am I?"

Pat rolled his eyes. "Still doesn't make sense. You'd think she wouldn't want to push Molly away from you."

"She's scared, Patrick. She's lashing out at Molly, at you, at me via the both of you." When he looked up and realised that they'd arrived at their destination he asked the cabbie to stop. "Ah, Waterloo Bridge. You need to make a decision about how you feel. Although it's fairly clear that you're in deep, as they say." The other man sort of squeaked. "I'll go speak with her while you gather your thoughts. Good luck, my friend." Then he got out of the cab.

On his way to the woman he realised what he'd just said. Patrick had, against all odds, become his friend. _Look at me; I'm finally popular_ , he thought with a roll of his eyes.

"From someone who's actually jumped to his death, I don't recommend it," Sherlock said as he approached her.

Her head jerked in his direction. Her puffy red eyes were not at all surprising; her smile was. "I knew it would be you. Somehow I knew they'd send you to find me."

"Well, it _is_ what I do."

"I'm not going to jump, Sherlock. I just wanted to think. You can tell them that I'm fine," she said, turning back to the black water.

He walked up to her and leaned on the railing. "Well, unfortunately, that's not good enough. You've upset a couple of people I that care about and I'm not too happy about it."

Meena looked at him, clearly shocked. "You care about Pat?"

"Oddly enough, yes."

She laughed. "That _is_ odd. And odder still that you admitted it."

"True, but I'm basking in post coital glow. I blame the hormones and endorphins,"

She gaped for a moment then asked, "Are you high?"

"Yes, but not on drugs." He turned to face her. "Listen, because I'm only going to say this once. You're the one screwing up this relationship. Pat does still have feelings for Molly, but not like you think. He cares for her, Meena. That's not going away anytime soon. He was in love with her just a few short months ago. Is he still in love with her though? No, he's not."

"How can you be so sure? I- I mean I get that you're this great detective and all, but you know almost nothing about love and relationships."

"I can't argue with you on that point. But I've spent, relatively speaking, a good deal of time with Patrick these past few months. You've helped him heal, Meena. You've helped him get past the pain of losing Molly and I can say in my professional opinion that he's falling in love with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Professional opinion? Thank you, Dr. Phil."

"Who?"

"Nevermind." She was quiet for a moment as they both watched a passing boat. "You think he really might love me?"

"Yes, I do. More importantly I don't think you'll ever find out if you keep sabotaging things."

"Jesus, four months of dating and suddenly you're an expert. You're insufferable, you know that?" she said.

"I'm well aware." He moved away from the railing. "Now I'm going to send Pat this way. Then I'm taking the cab back to Molly's because we were interrupted by your inane fighting." He started to walk away then turned back. "Oh and by the way, I'm in love with your best friend. Nothing's going to change that. You can hate me all you want but I'm not going anywhere," he added as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this fun little idea for a follow-up, let me know if you're interested and if you enjoyed this last chapter. Thanks so much for reading. ~Lil~

**Author's Note:**

> See? I promised happiness in the end... talk to me? Please? Sorry about Pat... I really do like him. Thanks for reading. ~Lil~


End file.
